


If your song

by Ephy



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: "the joker" is a warning, M/M, asexual rape, horrible kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:38:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephy/pseuds/Ephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Joker wasn’t happy about Batman being interested in Robin. Now that Batman is being <i>interested</i> in Robin, he must intervene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If your song

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Horribles kinks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541773) by [Ambrena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrena/pseuds/Ambrena), [AndersAndrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndersAndrew/pseuds/AndersAndrew), [chonaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chonaku/pseuds/chonaku), [Fyin (Ephy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephy/pseuds/Fyin), [mapleprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleprincess/pseuds/mapleprincess), [Marry Black (Ri_chan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ri_chan/pseuds/Marry%20Black), [Nelja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelja/pseuds/Nelja), [Ri_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ri_chan/pseuds/Ri_chan). 



> This fic was written for the « horrible kink » dare (originally in French, you can read the French version as second chapter of the "Horrible Kinks" series.  
> Dick is still Robin, I consider him to be about 16. But the very point of this fic isn’t canon at all so don’t try to find out where it fits in the timeline ^^;  
> Also, I’m not giving any characters’ name in the text. However, if you can’t figure out who is who, it means I didn’t write it well enough ;)  
> "If your song" is a translation from Le Corbeau et le Renard ("Si votre ramage")

When the birdie arrived, I hated him, yes, yes hated. You see, _he_ was looking at him in a way… hah! Men are all the same.

Until then, he hadn’t had such an intense look for anyone but me. Me! No one else ever touched him so deeply.

It had only been a few months between him and me…

And _kaboom!_ The birdie shows up, with his cute yellow down, and all the attention goes to him.

I was furious.

And then… Well, I adapted. That’s how it is, in relationship, you know? People have to adapt to each other. If one change and you don’t want to lose him…

I will never lose him. Never. He won’t get rid of me. Even after I die. I’ll haunt his dreams, oh yes, his nightmares. His whole life.

Besides, the duckling wasn’t _that_ bad. After I talked to him, I realized he had some charm. I guess I could see what he saw in him. I accepted to include him in our everyday life.

Mhh…

We played together.

He didn’t always like my games.

He might be a bit _difficult_ …

But the brat didn’t want to go away. So he, too, adapted.

Since I included him in our dance, I showed him the bright colors of life. I made him cry, oh yes! I still quiver when I recall those times. I made him scream, yes. I made him laugh, until his jaw hurt, until his belly twisted…

Yes, yes, I think he _liked_ that one.

I thought I was managing okay. For a time, I did.

Then the duckling grew up.

His down fall, his features grew. A wonderful plumage, I must admit. Objectively. You don’t see such an ass all that often, ladies and gentlemen, oh no! Even my darling doesn’t have his grace, his charm.

It’s not the ass, nor the grace, nor the charm that I like. My darling’s darkness, his obsessions, yes, they have no other equal than mine.

But then suddenly, he has a marvelous bird right in front of him. And within easy reach, yes, should I point it out? Because he raised this bird; he fed him; he tamed him! He just had to bend down and collect, yes, to obtain all he wanted from him.

I could see as much. He was looking at him! He wanted him! He looked at _him_ , he wanted _him_! This bloody bird!

But I knew how to fix it. I knew them both, you see? I knew them as if I had made them myself.

To say the truth, I _did_ help with their maturation. Without me, they wouldn’t be who they are, either of them, no. Without me, they wouldn’t have reached their full potential. They would still believe they could count on luck or on others.

No. They only have themselves, could only count on each other, yes, and on me, because I’ll always be there for them, whatever they try.

I knew they’d yield in the end. The bird’s age wouldn’t be an excuse for long. They would stop equivocating, they would stop looking at each other from afar.

So I captured the bird.

I carefully bound him, so he wouldn’t shy away. Then I prepared him.

He first struggled. He didn’t want my touch, of course: _I_ wasn’t his chosen one. But teenagers’ bodies, you know? They’re made to yield. To shudder.

I was surprised, I must admit. Really surprised. He was _fascinating_ to look at.

I didn’t undress him. He doesn’t like to be seen without his artifices, you see? I barely pushed away some red over there, green over here… His legs were naked to begin with.

And his body was now shuddering! I know for a fact that he loves danger. Even he, little sun, has a darker side. Everyone. Every. One. Has one. And he, he was suddenly reacting at my touch, his body twisting lovingly, his pulse rate increasing, his muscles tensing.

I’d never triggered such a reaction.

My gloved hand touched him, and he was shouting at me to stop, then begged me, then his tears, oh! His tears. So salty. Delicious.

In those moments, I regret he’s wearing a mask. I would _love_ to taste the expression I imagine on his face. The despair, the need… yes, the bird was mine, at this point.

I licked his tears away and, finally, finally took off one of my gloves. His gorged cock was pointing out of his briefs, surprising, captivating, yes… I was almost curious enough to go and taste it.

I tasted his tears instead, mhh, delicious, take my word for it. (Do take it. No one else has the right to make him cry with despair, only me, me and him, the three of us, just the three of us.)

(Only me.)

I knew the theory. I’d allowed something to grease him, Vaseline, so practical.

I didn’t expect him to buck. To beg. And his no, his no, please, sounded more like yes, yes, please yes.

Oh, darling…

I’d made him scream and laugh and now also moan.

I didn’t, however, have much time. I was on a schedule, you see? So, I prepared him, exactly how he should be, and he was shuddering, yes, and I was almost – almost – tempted to stay around to discover what he found so interesting in those touches.

But _he_ was coming, of course. He was coming to save him.

I left. Leaving just a camera running in a corner.

I saw him arrive. He stopped, as struck by thunder – and, trust me, nothing like electricity to stop you dead, haha!

He stopped and he looked at him. He couldn’t take his eyes away. No, he couldn’t, because it was his personal bird and he knew it was also _me_. And how could he resist the both of us, mh? We are everything to him.

The birdie suddenly felt he was there. They’re like that, you see? No sound, blind, hands tied to the ceiling, legs spread on the ground, hah, but he knew his master was there.

Ooooh yes.

And he _moaned_.

This sound…

I’d gladly take a bite of it.

That got my darling out of his stupor – and completed the work. He yield.

And me, hah… I wouldn’t have been any closer by being in the room to congratulate them.


End file.
